Ismat
Chughtai. She had much to teach me. Especially her unapologetic manner of
writing. Her stories are layered, beautifully. Not like the onion. But like the
fluffy whorls of a flower, where the petals entwine one another. Women are the
focal point in many of her stories.
But
there are some that mirror many of my moments in life. Just as in the Invalid. But
her Hell-bound, left me speechless and a bit teary-eyed too. As I managed to wade through the rich
description of her brother, Azim, I slowly started to draw comparisons to mine.
They did not have the same personality. Hell-no. But they both succumbed to TB
in the month of August. For me, that’s enough.
And
the way she points at those every, banal emotions that one does not even notice
– astounding. There is much to her that I am yet to come across, discover and
interpret. But I know that this is the start of a delicious journey of one of
my favourite authors.
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